


The Long Haul

by Butterballs



Series: First Times [5]
Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterballs/pseuds/Butterballs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Aidan's first fight and the long-term ramifications for their relationship. Large helping of fluff with a small portion of angst and a pinch of humour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Haul

Their first fight is, in the scheme of things, fairly significant.

It’s a little over six months into their relationship and just about everybody that they work with knows. Everybody knows and nobody cares. Dean couldn’t ask for more and he knows that Aidan feels the same way. They’re finally out of the trailers, thank God, and Dean is renting a small house, big enough for all his photography and painting crap (in the words of a certain charming Irishman) and big enough for Aidan. Aidan doesn’t live there but he might as well; he’s left a toothbrush in Dean’s bathroom and spare underwear in Dean’s dresser drawer, and lighters and half-empty cigarette packets lying all over the place because Aidan keeps forgetting to take them with him when they leave the house and ends up buying a new packet every time. He spends at least four nights out of seven with Dean and always leaves wet towels on the bathroom floor and the lid off the milk, but Dean couldn’t be happier to have him around. 

And then Aidan mentions how he's told his parents about their relationship and it all goes to shit.

'You told them?' Dean says blankly, blinking at him. 'How? Did you, like, just call and slip in the fact that you have a boyfriend?'

'Skyped, yeah,' Aidan says, his proud smile faltering. 'I thought, you know, that it was time. It's been half a year. We can't hide it forever.'

'And how did they take it?'

'Ah...they're Roman Catholics, Dean.'

'Right, so...'

'Not well. I mean, I'm not disowned just yet, but still. Not well.'

Dean clears his throat uncomfortably. 'Well, er, good. I mean, not good, but it's in the open for them. I'm happy for you. Us. Can't hide it forever, as you said.' He begins to make a cup of tea for something to do, fiddling unnecessarily long with the bag and resolutely avoiding Aidan's eyes.

'So have you told your parents yet?' Aidan asks hopefully.

'Um...no, not yet. I haven't had much of a chance to see them lately.' That's not a lie, they've been so busy with filming and are so shattered at the end of each day that Dean hasn't had the energy to visit them.

Aidan looks at him skeptically. 'Fine, well, are you going to tell them soon?'

Dean bobs the teabag around a few times and coughs. 'Sure. Soon. When the time's right.'

'Dean. Leave the tea alone and look at me.'

Dean sighs and grudgingly turns around to face Aidan, whose mouth is set in a firm line and arms are crossed. Aidan takes a deep, visible breath before saying to him, 'Promise me you'll tell them soon. I actually do want to meet them someday, I want to be involved in that part of your life.'

'I know,' Dean murmurs. He's got that hot, tight feeling around his solar plexus that always precedes an argument. 'You will be. But...' He rubs a hand over his face. He has to say it now or it'll fester and burst out at some other more inopportune time. 'Fuck, Aidan, shouldn't we have talked about this first? Why did _you_ have to tell them?'

Aidan's eyes narrow. 'Because I'm not _ashamed_ of you, Dean. Is that so hard to understand?'

'I'm not _ashamed_ of you either, Aidan, God. It's just...I didn't know that we were telling our parents yet.'

'I didn't know that we weren't!' Aidan spits back. His voice is getting louder by the minute. 'And I still don't understand what is so difficult about it!'

'I haven't had a boyfriend before, I think they're going to be a bit surprised!' Dean half-shouts with a wild wave of his arms. 

'And my traditionally Irish, Roman _fucking_ Catholic parents weren't?!' Aidan _actually_ shouts, taking a step back. 'I had to listen to a twenty-fucking-minute sermon from my dad about how it's a sin and I'm going to hell and I'm shaming the family, and all that sort of shit; and then mum said "Oh it's just this acting business down there, it's just temporary, you've got some bad influences," and do you know what I said to both of them, Dean?' 

'Um - '

'I said "Fuck you, I love this man and nothing either of you say will change that," and I hung up on them. That was a week ago and I haven't heard a peep from either of them since. I defended you, Dean, because I fucking _love_ you, all right, and anybody who talks shit about you is going to get a bollocking from me. Even when it's my own parents.' Aidan stops to take a breath and he doesn't appear as angry anymore, just hurt, which Dean finds even harder to handle. He's never simultaneously felt this flattered and like this much of an asshole before.

Despite this, he can't lie to Aidan. 'I will tell them, Aidan, I promise you, but please understand that I'm...I'm not ready yet. I can’t force it.'

'Yeah, well, find me when you are ready,' Aidan mutters bitterly, and pushes past him to leave the house with a slam of the door. Dean blinks in the resounding echo, his tense breathing overly loud to his ears. He should run after Aidan, call him back and swear that they'll do it right now, just drive right over to his mum and dad's house and come out with it. He should tell Aidan that he loves him and he's being and idiot and of course they'll work through this like mature adults.

He _should_ tell Aidan a lot of things. Instead he heats up frozen apricot chicken, turns on Nine Inch Nails at top volume, curls up in a ball in front of the couch, and cries.

***

The following week is all kinds of challenging. Kili is as in character as always because Aidan is a consummate professional but as soon as the cameras stop rolling it's as if he can't get away from Dean fast enough. Dean tries again and again to catch his attention to talk to him but he's never given the chance. 

Dean tries texting him - while they're standing only meters away from each other - but those attempts are also ignored. He wants to fix this but he doesn't want to make promises he doesn't know when he can keep. Surely Aidan understands that...

On the third day after the fight Adam sidles up to him and asks him flat out what he's done.

'What makes you so sure _I_ did anything?' Dean asks defensively. He knows it's pointless to refute, though; what with those wounded puppy looks Aidan keeps casting his way.

Adam looks at him pointedly. He doesn't even need to say anything.

'Oh all right then...yeah, I sort of upset Aidan.'

Adam allows the 'sort of' to slide. 'Yes Dean, I know that, You two haven't been near each other in days when usually you cling to each other like limpets. I want to know _what_ you've done.'

Dean scuffs the dirt with his boots. 'Well...promise you won't call me an asshole?'

'I promise.'

'Aidan told his parents, right. About us. And I, ah, wasn't all that impressed by it...I said we should have talked about that first. Then he asked when I was going to tell _my_ parents and I said I wasn't ready.' Dean sighed.

'I see,' Adam says thoughtfully. 'And did he say how his parents reacted?'

'Yeah. Not particularly favorably. They said I was a bad influence and he told them to fuck off.'

'Right.' Adam pats him on the arm. 'Well, you're not an asshole.'

'Thank you, Adam.'

'You're a bit of a dick, though.'

'Hey!'

'You only said not to call you an asshole,' Adam reminds him. 'And anyway, you _are_ a dick. This is such an easy thing to fix, Dean, and you're wasting time by moping around instead of doing something about it. I really doubt they're going to care as much as you think they will.'

Dean shoves his hands into Fili's pockets. 'Yeah...'

'And the longer you leave it, the harder it's going to get.'

'I know...'

'And is this worth losing Aidan over?' Adam probes gently. Dean bites his lip.

'Definitely not.' Nothing is.

Adam shrugs. 'That's it, that's the full extent of my wisdom. Now fix this shit, Dean, we're all sick of seeing the both of you so miserable.'

Dean groans. 'Has everyone noticed?'

' _Everyone._ '

'Balls.'

'Indeed. I'm going away now. Think about what I've said and report back with any developments.' Without giving Dean any further time to process this, Adam turns on his heel and trots back over to where Mark, Jed and James are standing. There's a flurry of whispers as Adam relays their conversation.

Dean rubs a hand over his face, momentarily forgetting about his make-up and thus ensuring that costuming will give him a reaming when they see the damage, and fingers his phone in his pocket. He half-thinks about waiting until he's back at home to do this but Adam's right, he'll just keep putting it off, and then Aidan won't love him anymore and everyone will think he's a dick and everything will be fucked. 

He slowly pulls his phone out, takes a deep breath and punches out a text to his mother.

_Hi mum. I'm inviting myself around for dinner on Friday. There's someone I think you should meet._

***

After receiving the text Dean's mum calls him straight away and after fifteen minutes (' _Mum!_ I'm not telling you anything more, yes it's someone special, that's all I'm saying. Does Brett really have to be there? Can you _please_ ask him to behave himself?') he finally gets the chance to compose a text to Aidan. He knows Aidan has been receiving them; he's turned on the read receipt function on his phone to make sure. He'd call Aidan instead but, well...he's not picking up.

He re-writes the text six times before eventually sending it.

_I'm ready._

Aidan isn't standing anywhere near him but the surprise on his face is still plain to see, as all of Dean's other texts have been variations on _I'm sorry, I'm such a twat, I love you, please forgive me._

His reply just says _Really?_

Dean shoots back, _Yes but I need you there with me._

Aidan looks up at him and flaps his hand towards himself, beckoning Dean to join him. Highly aware of how many of their friends are watching them right now - specifically James, who is hovering around Aidan like a bad smell - Dean shakes his head and points at the ground, indicating that Aidan should be the one to join _him_. His phone vibrates with another message.

 _What's your problem?_ Aidan has sent.

Dean types his reply too fast and without checking and the result is, well -

_Jesus is watching_

God damn fucking Autocorrect! Dean quickly adds _I mean James_. Across from him, Aidan is giggling into Kili's sleeve. Dean watches as he types out another reply.

_I'll come by yours tonight x_

***

Their making up is fairly standard - more apologies from Dean, more eyerolls from Aidan, then Christ-we've-not-had-this-for-three-whole-days frenzied sex. Dean resolves to never be that stupid again.

But Friday night rolls around before he knows it and he's back to feeling that all-consuming, paralyzing level of fear.

He's pacing in the living room of his house, wringing his hands and chain-smoking because Aidan has hidden all the booze while Aidan sits placidly on the couch and ignores him. For a while, at least. Then finally he cracks and yells, 'If I give you a shot of scotch will you stop fuckin' moving?'

'Christ, yes,' Dean pleads. Aidan disappears into the kitchen and returns with two shot glasses. Dean grabs one and necks it gratefully, Aidan doing the same. 'You don't look all that nervous for someone about to meet his boyfriend's parents,' he says accusingly.

'I am a little bit,' Aidan admits, 'But probably not as much you. That's understandable, though. I'm much more charming and better looking than you are.'

Dean blows him a raspberry.

The drive there is a quiet one for Dean – Aidan is doing a fine job filling up the silence by turning up the radio and singing along to _Peaches_ \- and by the time they reach Dean’s parents’ house he is shaking uncontrollably, his right foot jerking on the brake pedal.

‘ – millions of peaches, peaches for – what the fuck’s wrong with the car?’

‘Nothing.’ Dean switches off the ignition. ‘I’m a bit shaky.’

Aidan unplugs his seatbelt and faces Dean. ‘A bit? You look like you’re heading to the chair. I keep telling you, everything is going to be fine – peachy, even,’ he adds with a grin, making Dean groan. ‘Now kiss me, please, and then we’re knocking on that door and blowing your whole family away with our awesomeness.’

Dean obliges the kiss but he still needs Aidan’s firm grip on his hand guiding him up the driveway. Aidan knocks on the door for him and, well, it’s too late to turn back now. He wills away the nausea and tries to look cheerful.

The door opens and there his mother is, welcoming and bubbly as ever. He feels a quick stab of guilt at not having seen her for so long. ‘Dean!’ she exclaims, enveloping him in a warm, floral-scented hug. His father and Brett appear behind her and reach forward to clap a hand on each of Dean’s shoulders. ‘Dad, Brett,’ he acknowledges through his mother’s squeeze. He extricates himself from his mum’s grasp and stands back next to Aidan, taking his boyfriend’s hand.

‘Mum, dad, Brett,’ he begins, and holy fuck this is really _it_. ‘I’d like to introduce my - Aidan. My b-boyfriend.’

His mother, bless her, looks only a mite astonished before her expression changes back to loving and opens her arms to Aidan. ‘Vicky,’ she says, hugging him with exactly the same fervor she’d hugged Dean with a moment ago. ‘It’s so nice to meet you.’

‘And you, Mrs – Vicky,’ Aidan replies with a sunny smile. ‘You have a wonderful son.’

‘And _you_ have a wonderful accent, love. Dean, you never said he was Irish!’

‘Never said he was a _he_ ,’ Brett puts in, unable to help himself.

‘Brett!’

‘Sorry, mum. Hi, I’m Brett,’ he says, shaking Aidan’s hand.

‘And Lance,’ his father adds, taking his turn to shake. He appears stunned, but they haven’t been immediately dismissed from the property, so Dean considers that a win. 

‘Come inside, then, dinner’s almost ready,’ Vicky says briskly, herding the boys inside. Aidan refuses to let go of Dean’s hand and Dean doesn’t really want him to.

Dinner is, in a word, flawless. There are no awkward lulls in the conversation. Nobody asks neither Dean nor Aidan any embarrassing personal questions. Nobody makes any reference to the fact that Dean hasn’t brought a guy home before and for once, Brett keeps a lid on the gay jokes. They both tell stories about their adventures on set, and Aidan makes them all laugh with tales about Ireland, and really he fits into Dean’s family like he belongs there. 

As Aidan is helping his mother wash the dishes – he absolutely insisted, which he _never_ does at home, the little fucker – Lance asks Dean one very simple, important question.

‘Does he make you happy?’

‘Yeah, dad. He really does.’

‘That’s all that matters, then.’

And in the car on the way back to his house, when Aidan _doesn’t_ say ‘I told you so’, Dean realizes that they’re both in this for the long haul.

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone have a toothache now? Yes? Good. :D


End file.
